


Something Blue

by typicaltorii



Series: Confessions Over Coffee [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: ((nothing too bad i promise)), Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Hickeys, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Morality | Patton Sanders - Freeform, Patton is a good dad okay, Platonic!Moxiety, RATED T FOR A REASON, Roman is v v sweet i love him, Sanders Sides - Freeform, Virgil sweetie you're doing great, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 13:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typicaltorii/pseuds/typicaltorii
Summary: Blue. The color of falling in love, apparently, at least for Virgil.





	Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back from the dead. Heh.
> 
> Thank you to those of you that waited. All of your comments pushed me to get this started.
> 
> And to those of you that did not, let me just say that spite is what fuels me.
> 
> Enjoy!

Virgil couldn't believe he had done this.

He knew it was such a cliche teenage thing to do, to invite a boy over when his dad wasn't home, but what was even dumber was that he had actually gotten prepared to have said boy over.

He hadn't seen Roman since a few weeks ago, when he had worried himself so much he dropped by Roman’s place virtually unannounced and then proceeded to attempt to flirt with him in an ultra lame fashion. It wasn't until Virgil had jumped back into his car that he realized he had probably majorly inconvenienced Roman by randomly appearing at his door when Roman was supposed to be resting. He also completely put him out by trashing his kitchen and then greedily borrowing Roman’s clothes while he was busy cleaning up Virgil’s mess.

Needless to say, Virgil felt like he had made a complete fool out of himself. Which is exactly why he hadn't come into the diner recently and only had a few short conversations with Roman over text. Frankly, he was just too damn embarrassed.

So Virgil’s brilliant idea to kind of make up for it was to invite Roman over for dinner while Patton was busy with parent-teacher conferences all night.

Or at least, that's how it was supposed to go.

Of course, leave it up to Virgil to get so paranoid over his upcoming Chemistry test that he was still studying when he got a text from Roman.

**New Message: Princey  
omw sunshine. need anything from the store?**

Virgil just couldn't hide the blush on his face as he saw the pet name Roman used so flippantly. He had always really secretly loved pet names like that, and _Roman_ using them just made him feel lighter than air. It was no surprise that Virgil’s crush on the boy was intensifying with every day. Even Patton, wonderful, airheaded Patton, could see it from a mile away. His new favorite past time was teasing his son about how much he fancies the handsome waiter.

And Virgil was just hopeless to it. Just the thought of Roman made his stomach clench in nervousness. Or butterflies. He couldn't figure out which. Maybe even both.

He didn't have time to ponder it though, as the rest of Roman’s message sank in.

“Shit!”

Virgil nearly collided with his doorframe as he raced from his room and down the flight of stairs to the living room. He frantically rushed to the kitchen, yanking the pantry door open and quickly scanning the contents before finding what he needed. He barely hesitated as he grabbed a box of uncooked noodles and the half-empty can of Prego.Virgil had been planning to make spaghetti and meatballs, complete with garlic toast and a bowl of salad, but as he fidgeted while filling up a pot with water, he realized with clarity that it would be a miracle if the noodles were cooked before Roman got here.

Curse his stupid brain for making him panic over a test that was a week away. He set the noodles to boil and reached for a saucepan, worrying exactly how long it would take Roman to get here.

He didn't have to wait long for Roman’s text, and the minute Virgil read ‘i’m here,’ he sprinted to the front door, throwing it open and hoping his incoming panic wasn't too noticeable.

And of course. _Of course_ Roman was standing on the other side, looking flawless and completely at ease in a sky blue t-shirt and a small bouquet of flowers perched under one arm and a shopping bag hanging from the other. His smile was blinding, and Virgil nearly gasped from the sight of it all.

Roman offered up the flowers, a dusting of pink crossing his cheeks as he said, “For you. Daisies, I think. I don't know; I just saw the purple and thought of you.”

No one had ever offered Virgil flowers before, and a grin split Virgil’s face in two as he gingerly took the lavender buds from Roman’s grasp. His heart was beating so damn quick, he was afraid it would burst.

“Wow,” Virgil murmured as he fingered the petals delicately, “They're beautiful. Thank you.” Virgil realized belatedly that he had yet to invite Roman in, and he moved from the door in haste. “Come on in. Leave your shoes by the door.”

As Virgil returned to the kitchen, being extra careful in laying the flowers on the counter, he looked into his pot of boiling water and decided that the vague shapes floating at the bottom looked like cooked pasta.

“So, it's been a while,” Roman said as he joined Virgil, moving next to the stove and jumping up onto the counter like he had done it a hundred times before. “What made you decide to cook me dinner, huh?”

Virgil hadn't expected Roman to be so straight-to-the-point with the matter, but he couldn't help but think that talking about ghosting Roman was probably better addressed sooner rather than later.

Virgil sighed as he placed the saucepan he had gotten out onto the burner and setting it on low, “I’m really sorry about kinda straight up ignoring you for a bit. Think of this as an apology.”

Virgil wouldn't dare admit that it was an apology for a lot more than that, but Roman didn't need to know all of the details.

The boy kicked his legs as he watched Virgil, a small smirk pulling at his lips, “I think you just like making me food. After all, they say that's the quickest way to a man’s heart.”

And here's what Virgil just couldn't resist. The teasing banter verging on flirting. With Roman, it just felt so good, like he had a lightness in his chest that was only there when he was his sole focus. It was intoxicating.

“Oh,” Virgil said, a smirk of his own growing as he looked over at the boy on the counter, “Is it working?”

Roman pretending to ponder this, placing a finger to his chin as he rolled his eyes back. He sat like that for a few seconds before he nodded slowly, eyes never leaving the ceiling as he replied, “You know, I think it is. But I fear more experimentation may be necessary for a more solid conclusion.”

“Is that just your way of asking me to make you more food sometime,” Virgil laughed as he let the Prego warm and moved to strain the mostly cooked noodles. Roman laughed along, full of mirth and a warmness that made Virgil nearly blush.

“I cook for you all the time. It's only fair,” Roman argued as he watched Virgil nearly spill all of the noodles out of the strain over the sink.

Virgil nodded, and he knew his face was probably the color of the tomato sauce in the pan next to him, “That is an airtight argument. I can't fight that.”

The smile Roman gave Virgil nearly made him drop the strained noodles all over the kitchen floor. It was so earnest and affectionate, and Virgil was suddenly very, _very_ aware that he was alone. With a boy. A boy he had a big, fat crush on. Virgil attempted to duck his head as he gently tipped the noodles back into their pot, knowing fully that Roman was still watching him with that adorable smile on his face. God, was his heart pounding.

“So, what are you making me anyway,” Roman asked cheerfully, leaning over the stove from his seat on the counter, and Virgil got a very strong whiff of whatever enticing cologne Roman was wearing. “Spaghetti, huh?”

Suddenly, Virgil was pulled from cloud nine as he looked at the simple dish in front of him. All of a sudden, it didn't feel enough for Roman.

“I'm so sorry,” Virgil quickly apologized as he turned from Roman and placed the strainer back in the sink to be washed, “I was planning on making meatballs and garlic toast and salad, but I got so caught up studying, I completely forgot like a _fucking idiot_ -”

“Hey, hey,” Roman interrupted, jumping from the counter and laying a calming hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He couldn’t have been more than six inches from him, ducking his head so his chocolate colored eyes could meet Virgil’s. His voice was smooth as honey as he said, “This is more than enough. Thank you, Virgil.”

Virgil was convinced his face was just going to be red the entire time Roman was here.

Virgil met Roman’s eye and was welcomed with that melting warmth that existed just past the surface. A small smile pulled at his lips as his horror slowly seeped out of his system.

“Okay. Well, food’s ready, I guess,” Demurely, Virgil turned back to the stove, turning off the burners and pulling two colorful bowls from Patton’s extensive kitchen set. As he went to serve up his and Roman’s food, he realized that there was a plastic bag on the counter. Virgil had completely forgot that Roman had carried it in until then.

“What’s in the bag,” Virgil asked, gesturing with his head as he began filling their bowls with noodles. Roman glanced between the bag and Virgil, beaming brightly.

“Dessert,” Roman announced, putting his hands on his hips proudly. Virgil nearly snorted.

“Huh. I thought that was you,” the thought was out of Virgil’s mouth before he could even begin to filter himself, and his cheeks warmed instantly at the silence he was met with. He looked over his shoulder sharply, seeing a red-cheeked Roman with the cutest look of surprise on his face, his lips pulled into a small ‘o’. Virgil’s pulse was through the roof as he offered Roman his bowl, eyes pointedly trained to the ground. “I shouldn't have said that. Sorry.”

“Ah, no, uh, don't apologize,” Roman stammered, and somehow, his cheeks grew even more crimson, “That was, uh, really cute.”

It was Virgil’s turn to stammer relentlessly as he slid into a chair at the kitchen table, “O-Oh. Thanks. I guess.”

The boy’s slowly devoured their spaghetti, the energy between them nervous and crackling with energy. Virgil was familiar with it. It was the same feeling as a few weeks ago, back in Roman’s apartment on his couch. Like Virgil was on the edge of something, and if he even breathed the wrong way, he was incredibly liable to fall. Fall into what, he wasn't sure.

“You know, I don't think I've had a home cooked meal in a while,” Roman said idly, twirling his fork deeper into his noodles. Virgil looked up from his own bowl, pausing in his chewing.

“But you're a cook,” Virgil pointed out, trying to be as clear as possible with a mouth full of food. Roman's following smile was fleeting as he continued to twirl his fork, the soft clinking of the metal on ceramic one of the few noises in the room.

“Yeah, but I can't stand my own cooking.” When Virgil prompted him to elaborate, a defeated smile pulled at Roman’s lips as he slumped into his chair. “Every dish I make is a part of me. It's like my way of making art. And just like every artist I've talked to, when I eat my own meals, all I can taste are the small mistakes. Too much oregano, not enough bell pepper. Stuff like that. It kinda sucks sometimes.”

Virgil set his fork into his bowl, frowning deeply at Roman. He didn't know what to say. He kind of understood, though. It was just like when Virgil writes a new bit of song, but suddenly realizes that the chords sound just a bit off.

“That does suck,” Virgil lamented, but smiled brightly at the sulking boy across the table, “But if it makes you feel any better, I love your food. It's amazing.”

The tips of Roman’s ears turned pink as a self-conscious smile grew on his face, “Thanks.”

When both boys were properly satisfied (Roman got thirds, amazingly), Virgil took both of their bowls to sink, beginning to rinse them out under the soapy water. Roman jumped from his relaxed position in his chair, striding to Virgil and nearly hip checking him from the sink.

“What are you doing,” Virgil asked in shocked as Roman grabbed the bowls from Virgil’s hands.

Roman grinned cheekily at Virgil, “You did my dishes last time. So I'm doing yours.”

“Wha- no, you're not,” Virgil huffed, trying to grab the bowls back, but Roman was holding them over Virgil’s head. It wasn't fair; Roman had like six inches on him at least. “Roman, I swear to god, give me those back. You're a guest; go sit on the couch.”

Roman laughed loudly as he continued to keep the bowls out of Virgil's way, “Look who’s the pot calling the kettle black! Ya know, I think I've heard those words before, but I can't remember who said them! Maybe you can remember?”

“Oh shut up,” Despite the annoyance that was Roman’s hardheadedness, Virgil was smiling as he made one last attempt to grab the bowls. But Roman had backed up, turning towards Virgil and causing him to crash chest to chest with Roman. Virgil froze as he realized the position he was in, his arms were nearly wrapped around Roman’s shoulders and his nose was barely a few inches from the taller man.

Roman dropped his arms behind him to the counter, the bowls clattering, but he didn't even flinch. He was just as frozen as Virgil, and Virgil knew that his blush was evenly matched on Roman’s own cheeks.

_I could kiss him right now if I wanted to._

Virgil nearly shook his head at his own impulsive thought, but he realized if he did, his nose would bump into Roman’s own. Not a horribly unwanted scenario, if Virgil was being honest.

_If I wanted to._

And Virgil was being very, very honest right now.

Roman was still against the counter, and his eyes were flickering over Virgil’s face. Virgil immediately focused on Roman’s lips as he gently bit his bottom lip, and it was almost too much.

_I really want to._

The air was tense, and Virgil hadn't even realized that he had dropped his arms over Roman’s shoulders until he felt Roman’s hands rest tentatively on his waist, almost like he was handling glass. Roman was still scanning Virgil’s face before locking onto his eyes. If all the air hadn’t already been knocked out of Virgil the second he had seen Roman is that sinful blue shirt, he surely would have sighed now. But meeting Roman’s gaze was what really took his breath away.

Because there was that warmth again. Virgil’s knees were weak enough to collapse.

A sudden look settled onto Roman’s face. Instead of looking apprehensive, he looked completely sure, and his hands slowly encircled Virgil’s waist, pressing him flush with his body.

“God, do I want to kiss you,” Roman’s voice was already a little husky, and it sent shivers down Virgil’s spine. Thank god Roman was holding him up, because Virgil was about 110% sure he knees were going to give out. “Can I…”

“ _Oh god yes_ ,” Virgil would have been embarrassed as to how he basically panted that sentence out, but he didn't have the time to.

Because with sureness, Roman bent down and pressed his lips to Virgil’s. It was so steady, so sure, but still with just a hint of carefulness.

Virgil carded his fingers through Roman’s hair, pulling just slightly as he leaned into Roman. Any hesitance in the kiss was gone immediately as Roman pressed back.

There weren’t fireworks, per se. Not like all the cheesy romance novels Patton cried over at 2am. It wasn’t like in those awful high school movies, where the camera pans out and the song swells up right before the end credits. It wasn’t in the pouring rain, or the middle of a flash mob, or out of sure joy to be alive. None of that.

But the electricity that had been filling Virgil to every extent of his being finally had an outlet, and apparently that involved the citrusy taste of Roman’s chapstick.

Suddenly, all psychoanalysis of probably the best kiss Virgil has ever received in his life was cut short as Roman flipped around so Virgil was pressed against the counter. The edge of the counter bumped into Virgil’s lower back, and in any other instance, Virgil would have complained about the aggressiveness, but in that moment, it was hot. _Incredibly_ hot.

A small moan escaped Virgil at the contact, and Roman took advantage of the moment, slipping his tongue over Virgil’s own. A hand had traveled from Virgil’s waist to his cheek, firm and commanding in a way that made Virgil melt.

But the hand vanished, and Virgil wondered fleetingly what happened before Roman leaned down, lips still sealed with Virgil’s as he grabbed underneath Virgil’s thighs and lifted him with ease. He instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around Roman’s shoulders, letting him be lifted and placed hastily on the counter behind him.

And suddenly, Roman was pressed against Virgil again, stepping between Virgil’s legs and encircling an arm around his waist. Virgil was warm all over, as arousal slowly made his kiss a bit more desperate, hands traveling over Roman’s arms, his chest, his back. Virgil grabbed a fist full of Roman’s collar, pulling him impossibly closer and earning a guttural groan from the boy in front of him.

All thoughts were out the window as Virgil’s body cried out for _more_ , but before he could buy into impulse, a cheerful ringtone rang out from the counter by the stove.

Virgil groaned as he leaned away from Roman, mentally repeating the mantra of curse words that was shooting through his mind as he let his head fall against the cabinets behind him. Roman laughed under his breath, voice still husky. He shook his head lightly as he looked over his shoulder to see Virgil’s phone lighting up, alerting them of an incoming call.

“Want me to get your phone for you, sunshine,” Roman asked as he gently squeezed Virgil’s hips. Virgil nodded in irritation. Because now would be the moment the universe decided that Patton needed to call Virgil. Of course.

Roman crossed the kitchen, picking up the phone and returning to Virgil, more than content to claim his spot between Virgil’s knees and dropping Virgil’s phone into his outstretched hands.

Virgil sighed as he picked up the call, saying in his best neutral voice (and absolutely not the voice of someone who was about to do unspeakable things with the awfully handsome man standing in between his knees), “Hey dad. What's up?”

“Hey kiddo! You okay? You sound groggy,” Patton was as bright as ever, even over the phone. Virgil mentally cursed himself out over how rough his own voice sounded and scrambled for a reason.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Virgil flinched. Lying always made him nervous. “I may be getting a little sick. I don't know.”

“Oh no! Well, take some ibuprofen then,” Patton chattered, and Virgil could distinctly hear the closing of a car door, “Anyway, I’m on my way home! Sorry for being so late. I didn't anticipate getting stuck at work so long.”

“It's okay,” Virgil replied, a small smile on his face. Roman was still stood in between Virgil’s legs, his thumbs rubbing small circles on the inside of his thighs. It was incredibly distracting. “I-I made dinner, so I'm good. I'll leave some out for you.”

Virgil had to guess Roman must have gotten antsy listening to Virgil speak to his father, but he was completely inexcusable as a wicked smirk grew on Roman’s face and he leaned in, planting a solid kiss on Virgil’s neck and causing him to let a squeak of surprise.

“You okay, Virge,” Patton asked through the phone. Virgil was going to kill Roman when he was done with this phone call.

Roman continued to trail kisses from right under Virgil’s jaw to his exposed collarbone, and it was making Virgil’s skin burn.

He was going to commit homicide.

“Just fine! I stubbed my toe,” His voice was far too high. Oh, Roman was _so_ dead. “Anyway! You're driving, so I'll go ahead and let you go!”

“Okay kiddo! See you soon,” Patton’s voice was subdued, and Virgil prayed he wouldn't keep pressing because Virgil was very close to losing it. “Love you!”

“Loveyoutoobye,” Virgil spat out, nearly breaking his phone as he hung up and tossed it on the counter behind him. Roman leaned back, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. Virgil tried to pout, he really did, but with Roman so intoxicatingly close, it was incredibly hard. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Roman hummed as he placed a quick kiss on Virgil’s lips, pulling away barely as he said, “No, you won’t.” 

“You're the devil.”

“Whatever you say, angel.”

And with that, Roman reclaimed Virgil’s lips and Virgil was right back to pulling Roman in. It was like they had never stopped, still desperately grabbing and pulling and kissing. Roman pulled his lips away, running light kisses along Virgil’s collarbone. Without warning, he sucked sharply at the tender skin right above Virgil’s clavicle, and Virgil gasped loudly at the sudden aggressiveness. He could feel Roman smiling against his skin before pulling away. He was grinning proudly down at the spot he had made and Virgil knew immediately what he had just done.

“Did you...did you just give me a hickey,” Virgil asked incredulously, watching as Roman’s face lit up immensely.

“Purple’s such a good color on you,” Roman teased as lightly ran a finger over the discolored skin, sending a shiver through Virgil and making him that much more annoyed.

“You're ridiculous. Get out of my house,” Virgil huffed, crossing his arms. That didn't deter Roman as he tightened his hold on Virgil’s waist, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“I thought I was dessert,” Roman all but purred, and Virgil was warring himself over whether he should be feeling annoyed or aroused.

“I’m full,” Virgil had to fight his face into a frown, “Go home.”

Roman’s lips were trailing again over Virgil’s neck, and Virgil resolve was crumbling with every kiss, “I don't know, you don't seem quite satisfied yet.” Roman wrapped a strong arm around Virgil’s waist, pulling him roughly against him and Virgil _knew_ exactly what he was talking about. He was incredibly aware that there was some stiffness to his jeans, but he had been frantically trying to calm himself down for the past ten minutes in a lame attempt to hide his very apparent attraction.

“I'm kinda serious,” Virgil nearly moaned as Roman went back to rubbing circles into his inner thighs and doing absolutely everything to destroy Virgil’s failing attempts to reel himself back into reality, “Dad’s on his way home and I don't want him to walk in on _this_.”

Roman sighed against Virgil’s neck, warm air running over Virgil’s exposed skin and giving him goosebumps. He slowly pulling away and leaning back from Virgil. His smile was incredibly sweet and the tenderness Virgil getting used to was back in his eyes. “Okay, honey. Raincheck then.”

“Yeah,” Virgil smiled, heart flooding with affection and whatever gooey, heart-melty thing he couldn’t quite put a name on. Roman stepped back from the counter, offering his hand to help Virgil down. Once both properly had their feet on the ground, they exchange glances, and suddenly they were both laughing. All of the nervous energy and adrenaline that had been pumping through Virgil was leaking out as he giggled relentlessly. Roman had his head bowed, laughing just under his breath and shaking his head slightly.

“I did not think today would go the way it did,” Roman got out between bouts of laughter, meeting Virgil’s eyes and sending the two of the toppling back into laughter again. Roman just looked so freaking cute with his cheeks pinched in a smile that Virgil couldn’t help himself.

“That makes two of us,” Virgil replied the minute he got his breath back, placing a hand to his chest as looking Roman over. Virgil never realized how much muscle Roman had in his arms, but seeing them in that light blue shirt of his, it was so obvious that he could probably pick Virgil up and toss him across a room. “Ya know, blue is a really good color on you.”

Roman’s face flushed slightly darker as he smiled back at Virgil, “Not gonna lie, I wore this because I thought you'd like it.”

“You were right,” Virgil murmured, eyes barely leaving Roman’s very, very toned biceps as he gestured somewhere remotely to the front door, “Anyway, I hate to kick you out, but…”

“I get it,” Roman said languidly as he gathered up his keys from where he had tossed them on the island counter. Virgil lead him to the front door, barely reaching for it before a pair of hands gripped his waist and spun him on the spot. The sudden change in direction nearly caused him to topple over, but Roman was right there, arms wrapping tightly around his torso in a tender hug. Virgil was happy to have Roman’s shoulder to hide his face in, mostly due to the fact that he was grinning like an idiot as he returned the hug.

Even though the embrace couldn't have lasted for more than a few seconds at most, time stopped.

Roman's heartbeat was steady under Virgil’s own chest, and the smell of clean laundry comforted him to a level he didn't know exists. The sky blue shirt was soft under his fingertips. Everything about Roman was soft. His hair, his shirt, his smile.

Virgil was free falling.

“Thank you for inviting me over, Virge,” Roman murmured in his ear, sending (somehow) even more goosebumps down Virgil’s spine, “It always makes my day seeing you.”

Virgil couldn't help but snicker, “Don't you mean night?”

Roman leaned back, eyes crinkling from a bright grin rapidly growing on his face, “Sure, night, whatever.” Roman leaned in, placing a small peck on his nose and causing Virgil’s face to burn.

“Get out of here, you dork-”

“Oh.”

Pure, cold fear froze Virgil to the core. This was a sensation even worse than that time he had decided to go skinny dipping in the middle of December. He would have been surprised he could turn a full half circle at the speed of light if he wasn't more concerned about the fact that Patton, his father, was standing not even three feet away, house keys in one hand and briefcase in the other. His face was frozen in shock. It was probably mirroring Virgil’s.

“I didn't know you were home,” The words tumbled out of Virgil’s mouth, heart beating a mile a minute. He watched as Patton glanced over Virgil’s shoulder before eyes returning to him, a small smile slowly appearing.

“I called you, kiddo,” Patton stepped through the entryway, turning towards the door to lock it. Without looking up, Patton called out over his shoulder, “It's nice to see you, Roman. It's been a moment.”

Confused, Virgil looked back to see Roman had somehow snuck away, nearly at the garage door, frozen with his hand reaching for the knob. He lowered his hand, a look of embarrassment washing over his face as he turned back towards Virgil and Patton.

“Ah, yep,” The words had forced themselves past Roman’s (incredibly soft) lips, nearly making Virgil laugh at how nervous he sounded if he hadn’t been to preoccupied with trying to diffuse the shitshow that could potentially blow up in his face, “Great to see you, too, Pat.”

“I didn't know Virgil had company over. I would have driven around the block a few more times.” The coy smile Patton shot at Virgil made him feel both shameful and irritated. “If I'm not mistaken, I think you're the first boy he's ever invited over for dinner.”

“Okay,” Virgil’s mouth finally decided to quit being useless just in time, “Nope. Not doing this. Roman, let me escort you out the door. Now.”

The glare Virgil shot at Patton caused his dad to lift his hands in surrender, stepping aside with a knowing smirk on his lips. Patton better expect an earful from Virgil. Right after he got Roman out of his house as soon as physically possible.

Roman’s arm might have been dislocated from how hard Virgil had pulled his through the front door, Patton snickering the whole time, but Virgil would apologize for it later as he led the way down his driveway.

“Hey, slow down, sunshine,” Roman laughed, clearly recovering from that horrible encounter. Virgil wished he could do the same.

“That was awful. I want to kill Patton and then myself.”

Roman's laugh was as clear as a bell, causing Virgil to slow his pace. Maybe, maybe, he might be feeling a little...passionate about being horribly embarrassed in front of the guy he had just finished making out with not even ten minutes ago.

As they approached Roman’s dark blue sedan, Virgil was swept back into Roman’s arms, a rushed kiss pressed to his lips. Virgil almost whined about the brevity of it, but Roman very quickly whispered, “Sorry. I'd kiss you for far longer but I'm very certain your dad is watching us from the door and I don't feel like macking on his son right in front of him.”

Virgil laughed lightly, slowly pushing Roman away and shook his head.

“Get in your car, you devil. I'll talk to you later.”

Roman slowly stepped away, around the front of his car and towards his driver’s side door. He pulled the door open before pausing, looking up to meet Virgil’s eyes before a bright grin slipped onto his face.

“See you later, sunshine.”

Of course, the second Virgil stepped back through his front door, bright red and beaming from ear to ear, Patton laid in with all the questions he could. How long they had been seeing each other, how dinner went, if he was going to invite him over again. (Yes, a light punch might have been swung at Patton’s arm with that last one, but could you really blame the poor boy for that?) Virgil desperately tried to escape the hounding inquisitions by running to the kitchen, passing the shopping bag Roman had left.

Ah, yeah. Dessert.

A small prick of fear hit through Virgil’s heart at the thought that Roman could have brought ice cream. If he had, it would have melted completely by now.

Virgil reached quickly for the bag, reaching in and feeling plastic.

“What's that,” Patton asked over Virgil’s shoulder, but he was too focused on getting whatever was in the bag out. It didn't feel like ice cream. It…kind of felt like a cake box.

Virgil carefully slid the decorated treat out. It was small, not more than six slices total, and covered completely in vanilla icing with little flowers carefully piled onto it. But Virgil didn't even focus on the details poured into the handmade cake.

He was more focused on the light purple words carefully iced onto the top in near perfect calligraphy.

_Go Out With Me?_

The tears were a bit shocking, admittedly. A feeling, full of weight but ultimately wonderful, crashed over him like a tsunami. He was smiling, cheeks hurting nearly painfully, but a few tears escaped him regardless. He wanted to sob and laugh at the same time. What the hell was happening to him?

“Oh, Virgil, it's so beautiful,” Patton cooed from behind his son, leaning over Virgil and taking in the beautiful pastry work. His smile dropped when he saw the look over Virgil’s face, worrying replacing the happy tone in seconds, “Virgil? Kiddo? Is everything okay?”

Virgil nodded, tongue feeling far too big for his mouth. He choked out the words regardless, “Y-Yeah. I'm just…this is just…”

Patton placed his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, turning the young man towards him with a grim set to his eyebrows. “I will kill him for you.”

“Oh, god, no,” Virgil chuckled, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He looked back towards the cake, examining it like a work of art. And it was. Roman, an artist of the kitchen, poured his time and energy into making him a gift. And it was all for him.

“Well, if he ever does hurt you, you won't be able to stop me,” Patton shrugged, brushing past Virgil towards the staircase, “Oh, and you might want to cover up that hickey. I can go buy you some more makeup if you need it.”

“Dad!”

Patton’s laughter bounced off the walls as he headed upstairs, and Virgil slapped his hand violently over his collarbone.

After the few moments of crippling embarrassment threatening to eat him alive, Virgil finally looked at the cake that sweet, caring boy made for him. If Virgil knew anything, it would be just as wonderful as Roman was.

The text chime that accompanied Roman’s message had just gone off before Virgil was diving for his phone. It was just one message, short and to the point.

**New Message: Princey  
So?**

Virgil’s response was sent before he even acknowledged what it was.

‘Yes!’

Virgil had fallen. Hard, fast, completely out of his conscious control. But somehow, he knew the landing wouldn’t hurt him. He wasn’t afraid of the impact, of the shattering of bones and dreams. He knew his landing would be soft, full of kisses and cute dates and whispered confessions of love in the middle of the night. So no, he didn’t mind it.

He simply opened his arms and embraced it.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it!
> 
> Thank you for this wild ride, guys. The one-shot that started it all wasn't intended to be multiple parts, but here we are. If you enjoyed this, please don't hesitate to check out my other series, Sky Full of Stars!
> 
> Also, every comment and kudos warms my poor gay heart, so please let me know what you thought of this series! And again, thank you!


End file.
